Sunday, July 16, 2017

"Excommunicate Me From The Church Of Social Justice."

There is an underlying current of fear in my activist communities, and it is separate from the daily fear of police brutality, eviction, discrimination, and street harassment. It is the fear of appearing impure. Social death follows when being labeled a “bad” activist or simply “problematic” enough times. I’ve had countless hushed conversations with friends about this anxiety and how it has led us to refrain from participation in activist events, conversations, and spaces because we feel inadequately radical. I actually don’t prefer to call myself an activist, because I don’t fit the traditional mold of the public figure marching in the streets and interrupting business as usual. When I was a Christian, all I could think about was being good, showing goodness, and proving to my parents and my spiritual leaders that I was on the right path to God. All the while, I believed I would never be good enough, so I had to strain for the rest of my life toward an impossible destination of perfection.

I feel compelled to do the same things as an activist a decade later. I self-police what I say in activist spaces. I stopped commenting on social media with questions or pushback on leftist opinions for fear of being called out. I am always ready to apologize for anything I do that a community member deems wrong, oppressive, or inappropriate—no questions asked. The amount of energy I spend demonstrating purity in order to stay in the good graces of a fast-moving activist community is enormous. Activists are some of the judgiest people I’ve ever met, myself included. There’s so much wrongdoing in the world that we work to expose. And yet, grace and forgiveness is hard to come by in the broader community. At times, I have found myself performing activism more than doing activism. I’m exhausted, and I’m not even doing the real work I am committed to do. The quest for political purity is a treacherous distraction for well-intentioned activists.

Until it bogged down and I realized that I should be going ha ha ha ha ha on you, f'k'n dope.

But you know what just now turned me from terribly sour to pleasantly pleased just like that *snap* ?

There I was trying everything I could find and could think of to rid my wonderful little laptop of its Facebook stalking. Somehow Facebook waylaid my beautiful and brilliant adopted child to do its bidding. Like 3rd world miscreants abduct children to become soldiers. I followed all the advice that I found online. ALL of it. Finally I resorted to ridding my laptop of ~library caches of everything I didn't recognize or approve. That's going to cause some problems down the line with certain websites, I realize, but I don't care. It's worth reestablishing relationships to embargo Facebook from its malevolent tracking.

And nothing worked. My ~library was halved to essentials and STILL Facebook cookies self-propagated and repopulated continuously. I observed this in realtime.

Why is my laptop vexing me so sorely?

I'm ready to toss the little darling right out the window. So that it smashes to pieces dramatically and satisfyingly.

Then, in desperation I entered Apple technical chat. At length the guy named Jason asked my version. (I already gave that to open the chat) I told him again. He asked if I had upgraded to Sierra 10.12.5

And I'm all "W-H-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-T?"

Downloaded and installed new version, very long "boink", problem solved.

And turned my frown upside down.

Tuned my bile into smile.

Turned my chagrin into grin .

Turned my quirk into smirk.

Turned my vigilance into exuberance.

Turned my "Death to Facebook" to Yay for Apple Sierra.

And other physiological, psychological, emotional changes within me that I do not understand.